


Show Me

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 3 (Morena Amell / Cassandra Hawke) [3]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After witnessing the slaughter at the Tower, Morena Amell is tense and unhappy. Fortunately a certain assassin is only too willing to help her relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me

**Show Me**

They had made camp near the ruins of an old watchtower, partway up the slope of a hill overlooking Lake Calenhad. The tents were set up in a small circle around the campfire, with Morrigan's at a little distance from the others, as usual. Morena sighed wearily as she sat down in front of the fire and quickly filled her stomach with the usual stew. It tasted like nothing much at all, but she didn't care. For the past two weeks, ever since they had left Kinloch Hold behind, she hadn't really paid notice to what she was eating, where she was sleeping or who she was talking to. Her usual nightmares of the Archdemon were interspersed with visions of the slaughter in the Tower, of her friends' and teachers' faces contorting into the grimaces of abominations. She was so tired, so horribly tired of it all.

She was stretching and trying to roll the strain out of her neck, when a pair of warm hands settled on her shoulders, and a familiar accented voice sounded close to her ear. "Ah, my Warden, are you feeling tense? I would love to help you relax, you know."

In the normal course of events, Morena would have sent Zevran away with a stern rebuke, but his strong fingers were kneading her hardened muscles so deliciously she couldn't help leaning back into his touch with a small, happy sigh.

"See?" His warm breath brushed against her ear. "Trust me. Let me come to your tent. You'll feel much better once I've given you a... massage."

Morena considered his words for a moment. Oddly enough, she _did_ trust him. Ever since he'd joined them a few weeks ago, shortly after they'd left the Brecilian Forest, he had been loyal and reliable to a fault. Surely he was long past trying to kill her by now. And after all, why not make use of his particular talents...

"All right." She glared at him. "Just a massage, though."

He smiled slyly. "Of course, my dear. As you wish."

She felt Alistair's eyes on the back of her head as Zevran followed her into the tent, and spared a brief thought on how the warrior would react to this. Of course she had noticed his interest in her. The man was as clingy as a vine, always trying to make her laugh with his stupid jokes, always trying to get closer to her. She made a small moue of distaste. Everyone else seemed to see nothing but a big sweet puppy when they looked at him. Not her. She saw the templar he'd almost become. The way he wore his armour, his morning exercise routines, the passages he'd quote from the Chant. Everything screamed _templar_ to her. She shivered and was glad when the flap of the tent closed behind her and she was alone with Zevran.

The assassin was very quiet once they were inside. He had grabbed a small vial of almond oil from his pack on the way, and was now straightening her bedroll on the floor, making sure she would be comfortable.

"Come, my dear. Take off your clothes and lie down on your stomach." He sounded calm and collected, no hint of seduction in his tone.

Morena hesitated only for a moment before she slid out of her robe, keeping her smallclothes on and stretching out face down on the bedroll.

He took off his own shirt before he straddled her carefully, and he removed her breastband with quick, economic movements. "Ah, no, cara. This needs to go if I'm to do any good here."

Zevran poured some oil into his hands, warming it before he began to apply it to her soft skin, working his way up and down her back with a firm, sure touch. Morena closed her eyes and relaxed. He knew what he was doing, that much was certain. Soft upward motions, alternating with deeper downward strokes, his hands unerringly finding the knotted muscles and straightening them out. It was sheer bliss. And he didn't speak a single word. _So quiet, so peaceful._

All the pain and soreness disappeared and her body was warm and heavy, as if she were melting into the ground. Zevran was humming softly now, a sweet little tune which made her think of happier times and sent a pleasant vibration all through her. _So good._ So nice to have someone caring for her again. He really had remarkably dexterous hands. And if she was completely honest with herself, her recent testiness wasn't only due to the pressures of being a Warden, but just as much to the lack of opportunities to... work off tensions. _Well, that is easily remedied._

She wiggled a little under him, as if his weight on her back was making her uncomfortable. He immediately took the hint and rose a little, giving her room to move. Quickly, she twisted in his arms, so she was lying on her back, looking up at him. The change of position had let his hands come to rest on her breasts, and Zevran couldn't quite suppress a gasp when he felt her nipples under his palms, hard and eager, the soft skin of her breasts made slippery by the oil.

"Ah, my Warden, you are not an innocent." His voice sounded raw and husky, and his hands began to move, almost of their own accord, stroking softly around her breasts in a figure of eight, then all along her breastbone.

"No," she agreed with a happy, voluptuous sigh. "The Circle wasn't really a place for sweet, blushing virgins. But isn't this what you wanted all the time?"

Zevran paused for a moment and threw his long blond hair back over his shoulders with a graceful gesture. "It would depend... What exactly is it you want from me, Morena?"

She nodded. _Better to sort things out before we progress any further._ "Just pleasure." Raising her hand, she traced the tattoos on his hard chest, all the way down to the fine blond trail of hair on his stomach. "A chance to forget about the bad things for a while. That's all."

He looked at her searchingly for a moment, then he nodded. "Ah. Yes, I believe I can do that for you."

His thumbs circled her nipples and she moaned with pleasure, arching up into his touch. "Are you really as good as you claim?"

Zevran laughed, not at all offended by her question. "There's only one way to find out, no?" The assassin leaned in for a long, slow kiss, savouring her taste, exploring her mouth, before his lips travelled deeper. "I'm going to need your help, though..."

He pushed her breasts close together and let his tongue flick carefully against her nipples, noting with approval how she shivered at the caress. "Is this how you like it? Or would you prefer me to be more tender..." His lips were barely brushing against her skin now, and she made a small, impatient noise. "Or should I be a little... less considerate?" He sucked hard on one nipple for a brief moment, taking in her sharp cry of pleasure with a satisfied grin.

He moved away from her for just an instant to slither out of his pants, then he was back, his naked body flush against hers.

"Show me, my sweet Warden." Zevran was speaking barely above a whisper now.

His hands danced all over her body, mapping out all the places that made her shiver and moan, taking his time, committing all her reactions to memory, occasionally laughing out in sheer joy when he found a particularly sensitive spot. Before long she was burning for him, alive to his touch, yearning for more.

Finally he stretched out on his side next to her, pulling her close to his warmth and curling his body around hers. "Show me."

He took her hand and moved it down between her legs, waiting patiently until she couldn't help but touch herself, his hand on top of hers, following each movement.

"Yes, like this." His voice was like cool silk, his lips soft against her neck.

She almost blushed when she realized what he was doing. But as his hand finally took over on its own, she couldn't believe how gloriously perfect it was, how exactly he'd learned how she liked to be touched. Morena was trembling all over, but still he wouldn't be hurried, even though she felt him hard against her back.

"Zevran, please." She knew she was begging but she didn't care.

He laughed at the urgency in her voice and lay back, allowing her to straddle him, his hands open and motionless at his side. "I'm all yours, my sweet. Do what you will."

Shaking with impatience, she took hold of him and guided him inside her, almost keening with delight at the sensation of his length filling her. Opening her eyes, she found him watching her, his expression one of undisguised enjoyment.

"So beautiful." He reached up to stroke her cheek, chuckling when she turned her head to catch his thumb between her lips and suckled greedily.

His hips bucked up under her, almost involuntarily, and she began to move, in a slow, steady rhythm, drawing out the pleasure of feeling him stroke her insides. All the while she couldn't take her eyes off him. His smooth golden skin, stretched taut over hard muscle, the intricate pattern of his tattoos, the intense look in his half-closed eyes... He remained still and passive right until the very end, when she ground her body against him, begging for release.

Then he moved, quickly and decisively, flipping her over and arranging her long legs around his hips so he could enter her deep. "Look at me!"

He held her gaze as he began to thrust, careful at first until he was sure he had the perfect angle, then faster and faster until she lost all connection to the here and now, letting him take her to some other place, where nothing existed but the pure, perfect pleasure they took from each other's bodies. She didn't even notice she was screaming his name as she came, her nails raking down his back, her hands trying to push him deeper inside her, closer to her core. _So good, oh Maker, so good._

When she came to her senses again, Morena buried her face against Zevran's neck and closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings. Oh yes, he was really very good. She shivered. She hadn't felt anything like this since... No, it wouldn't do to think about _him_. He was dead and gone. Her life in the Tower was only a distant memory now.

Zevran's voice shook her out of her musings. He had pulled back and was now propped up on his arms above her, admiring her body and her smooth brown skin, even darker than his own.

"You're very dark for a Fereldan." He sounded amused by the discovery.

"I'm not Fereldan," Morena pointed out. "I was born in the Free Marches, in Kirkwall. My father was a merchant from Rivain. He met my mother at a party in her parents' house."

Zevran settled back on his haunches, motioning for her to go on, and she gave him a condensed version of her parents' ill-fated love story. "Her family, the Amells, were rich and important. And she was young, sweet and pretty. They fell in love, but unfortunately he failed to mention he had a wife and family back in Rivain. When she told him she was pregnant, he left immediately."

Zevran nodded, his face neutral, giving nothing away.

"It was a huge scandal." Morena made a face. "My mother refused to give me up. She was stubborn, determined to bring me up on her own. But not even she could stand up to her family when they found out I was a mage."

"So they took you to the Circle." Zevran sounded calm and matter-of-fact.

She breathed a sigh of relief. No pity there, at least. But that was no surprise, really. Messed up as her life had been, it was probably better than what he'd been through, judging from the snippets he'd told her about his childhood.

Morena shook off the unpleasant thoughts and reached out for him again. "No more stories. You promised you'd make me forget."

Her hands moved downwards, finding him already hardening again. She took hold of him and began to stroke him, her hands moving with a subtle twist which made him hiss sharply, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Brasca! Who taught you how to do this?"

Morena smiled. "Well, that's one thing the Tower was good for. You learn a thing or two playing under the tables in the library."

Zevran groaned when she changed her grip, and she laughed triumphantly. She was sure he wouldn't regret this night. And neither would she.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hugs and thanks to zevgirl!


End file.
